Day At The Beach
by Redbird97
Summary: When Sonia Holtwood takes Lauren as a child, playing by the rocks on the beach. Enjoy my interpretation of what might of happened :
1. Chapter 1

There was my jackpot, stood demurely by the rocks, panting. She looked slightly lost, so I instantly saw her vulnerability. I chuckled to myself, smoothed down the bristly hair of my wig and approached her. She turned round and looked up at me with sad blue eyes.

"Where's your mommy then, my love?" I asked her, faking a sweet voice.

"She's behind the big rocks." She pointed towards the grey clusters of rock protruding from the white sand. She had such tiny little fingers, her hand reminding me of a starfish. I searched around me, at the crowds bustling along the promenade and the young couples sprawled out by the sea. I had to act quick, her mom was lurking.

"Well, tough luck, sweetie, 'cause y'all not seeing her in no good time." I, in one swift gesture, clasped my hand over her face and forced her arms behind her back. She writhed and shrieked but all that could be heard was pathetic muffled groaning. Frank- let's just call him my sidekick- approached us from his position behind the palm tree about five metres away.

"C'mon, give me a hand." I snapped, afraid that her mother would show her face. He willingly took her other arm and together we moved her away from the promenade, towards the row of beach huts, and out into the car park. It wasn't easy to distinguish where we had parked because the car park was brimming with campers and open-roofed cars full of family's bickering or more young couples. God, why did the sun attract so many people? They just hindered us. We soon saw our white van jutting out behind the other vehicles, so we hurried over, momentarily releasing the little brat so we would look inconspicuous.

"Let me go!" She wailed.

"Shut it." Frank hushed, tugging at the red bucket that was clutched in her hand.

"That's my bucket!" She cried, close to tears. I rolled my eyes and intervened.

"Frank, shut up and get the cloth ready, and you," I glared down at the kid,

"Just do as I say or I will kill you, OK?" I said this in a lowered voice, my head close to hers. She said nothing in response so I opened the back of the van and gestured for her to get inside. A woman walked by pushing a pram and gave me a suspicious look.

"The novelty of the back of the van, eh?" I assured her. She smiled and resumed on her stroll.

I turned back to the girl.

"Now, get in." I gestured again. She gasped.

"It's real dark in there." Her eyes were fixed on the gloomy darkness inside the van.

"Yeah, well, you'll live." I hastily bundled her in. Frank had his arm dangling out of his window. I slapped it as I snatched away the cloth.

"God, make it obvious or what?" I hissed.

"Sorry." He grunted. I quickly returned to the back. Good. She was still there, curled up in the corner, shrouded in shadow.

"Come 'ere." She shuffled over.

"What's your name, sweetie?"

"Martha Purditt." She squeaked. Eurrgh, baby's voices got on my nerves. I pressed the cloth on her face. She made groaning noises of detest but in her weakness she fell asleep.

"Sleep tight, Martha." I locked her inside and climbed into the passenger seat.

"Let's hit it." Frank revved the engine and drove us out. A little way down the road I noticed a crazed woman with long black hair screaming. I opened the window slightly so I could hear her.

"My little girl, Martha! She's gone!" I chuckled and re-closed it. Well, woman, you weren't gonna see your little girl for a while.


	2. Chapter 2

"Where am I?" Martha asked, looking baffled. The drugs obviously didn't sedate her very well. I glared behind at her, coldly. I didn't bother answering her- she'd soon figure it out.

"I'm not at home, am I?" She asked, her lip quivering. She sat up on the floor of the van. Frank deliberately revved the engine, sending her against the side.

"Well done, what good observation." I hissed at her. She rubbed her arm and burst into tears.

"Shut it, kid." She did, my voice like some sort of power over her. Now, all I needed to do was get her in the act.

"Where's Mommy?" Martha whined, sitting cross-legged on the floor of the abandoned warehouse. It was dark, so all I could see was the sad glow of her big blue eyes. I lit a candle that I had placed on an empty wooden crate.

"I dunno, probably at the mental institution." I chuckled, remembering the woman in hysterics.

"What's a mental instilon?" She asked. I ignored her.

"Who are you?" Now she asks.

"I'm your mom." She raised her little eyebrow.

"No you're not."

"I am now, okay?" I withdrew my wonderful hand gun from my pocket and pointed it at her.

"Any more answering back and I will kill you, kid." She shut up. I proceeded, putting the gun down by the candle.

"I need you to pretend that I am your Mommy for a little while, yeah?"

"Why?"

"Because I need you to. If you don't, it's fine." I pointed to the gun. She swallowed and nodded.

"Frank's just getting my stuff and then we're going back out."

"I need the toilet." She moaned after a while. I dismissively pointed towards a box in the corner.

"But-"

"JUST SHUT UP AND GO!" I yelled. She silently went. Where was Frank? Why did I have to hire such an idiot? Well, he was cheap. He'd do what I needed him to do anyway. I quickly went outside to check if he had turned up, ensuring Martha was still inside. She was curled up on the floor, sobbing. He wasn't there, even though all he had to do was chuck a few suitcases and a few cabinets into the back of the van. Eventually he came, slowly crawling along.

"Hurry up." I muttered.

"Got everything, Marcia." He said as the van came to a halt before me, causing the gravel to crack. He looked triumphant.

"Sssshhhh!" I hissed.

" I'm Sonia now, remember? That is my name as far as everyone knows, okay? You are such a stupid freakin' idiot." He looked hurt. Oh well.

"Sorry, Sonia." I went back inside. Martha was holding my gun.

"Get your filthy little hands off that, you little jerk!" I snatched it from her and violently shoved her. She gasped and fell.

"Woops." I said sarcastically, twirling the gun as if to check it was not damaged. I slipped it back into my pocket.

"You mean!" She cried, glaring at me.

"You extremely annoying little princess." I hauled her onto her feet by her top and pulled her outside. Luckily we were out in the sticks, so nobody could hear anything. Not even the trigger of a gun.

"Now, get back in the van." She silently obeyed. I added,

"Don't even dare touch that stuff, okay?" She nodded and crawled back to her dark corner. Once on the road, I gave Frank his instructions.

"You drive me to the flats at Marchfield and then pretend to be a deliveryman, yeah?" He nodded, tapping the wheel.

"Then, you act as if you are helping a single mom and her kid move in, yeah?" He nodded again.

"Then, you drive off and wait until I need you again."

"Okay, so, I am now your deliveryman and I am merely helping you unload furniture into a single mom and daughter's flat." He repeated.

"Yes. Well done- you actually processed and understand basic instructions for once." I glanced behind at Martha, who was silent.

We were soon there, checked in, and I carried Martha up the stairs to my, I say our, new flat. I unlocked it and allowed her to go in. It was nearing night now, so I switched a light on for her, just to keep her quiet. I stood in the doorway, wincing every time Frank knocked my furniture about. What a fool. Soon he had everything holding up the hallway.

"Thank you, I will pay you soon."

"Yes ma'am." He helped me get everything inside and where I wanted it.

"Now leave. I will see you soon, I am sure."

"Okay, ma'am."

"Will you quit calling me that? Sonia will do." I spat, disgusted. I shut Martha in the bedroom, with the order to fall asleep on the floor, which I assumed she was doing.

"Okay, Sonia." He soon left. Now what to do? I sat in the lounge on the little floral sofa and planned my next move. Once satisfied, I entered the bedroom, climbed in the bed and fell into a light, restless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

I awoke to the annoying singing of Martha. She was on the floor, her back to me, occupied with something… I caught a glimpse of myself; five years old, so innocent. Then one day everything shattered into pieces. I had hated my father forever since. I shuddered in my reminiscence and sat up. For a moment I had the slightest feeling of guilt, but I quickly stopped it. My head was heavy and I badly needed more sleep, but I had to be "nice" to the kid now, so I guessed I had to get up. She noticed me and gasped when I caught her eye.

"Is that my snow globe?" I sounded sharp. She hid whatever she was holding behind her.

"It is my snow globe! Give it back you little-" I got out of bed and snatched it from her. It was the only remotely nice thing about my childhood and I didn't want that to be wrecked too.

"Lets get out of here for the day, then." I breezed past her into the open-plan lounge and kitchen.

"Can I have breakfast?" She asked, appearing in the kitchen behind me.

"No." I swallowed some anti-depressants.

"But I'm hungry!" She wailed.

"Shut up and leave me alone." I went to the sofa, ignoring my new shadow.

"Please!" I studied her for a second. She looked desperate. I knew I had to feed her if I was pretending to be her mom.

"Fine." I breathed. I retreated back to the kitchen and rooted through the empty cupboards, then the fridge. Nothing. I suddenly remembered a granola bar I had in my handbag. I fetched it from where the bag was hanging on a set of hooks by the door. It was squished but it would do. I handed it to her.

"I can't open it." She whinged.

"Look, here." I snatched it back and tore the wrapper. A look of disgust washed over her face. I gave it back to her and she ate it in silence. A little later on, after making many phone calls, there was a knock on the door. Suspicious neighbours? Cops? My heart beating like crazy, I adjusted my wig and plastered on a fake smile.

"Hello." I tried to sound relaxed as I opened the door. A small, frail old lady beamed back at me.

"Why hello there to you, my new neighbour." She produced a basket with a cloth spread over the top, concealing whatever was inside. A nice smell emanated from it.

"What's this?" I asked, accepting it.

"A housewarming present. Heard you arrived last night." I nodded.

"Stressed?" She laughed. I said nothing. Martha bound over to us, despite the fact I had made subtle body positions with the doorframe to stop her being visible.

"Oh, a mom are we?" The lady looked at Martha in adoration.

"Yeah." I ruffled the top of her head for effect. Martha froze underneath my touch, so I quickly glanced up at the lady, to see if she was at all suspicious. She looked slightly shocked, but she continued talking.

"So, the bottom line is- I'm Bettina, and you can drop by mine-" She gestured to the door that was in a juxtaposition to ours.

"Whenever you want. I'm always in, being retired and all. If I'm not in for some reason I usually leave a note on the door. Enjoy your present and welcome to Marchfield."

"Thank you Bettina." I smiled and shut the door behind us.

"She's nice." Said Martha.

"And intrusive." I muttered, but she didn't hear. I dumped the basket on the countertop and grabbed my purse.

"We're going to the shops."

"Why? I want to open the basket!" Martha pointed towards the kitchen.

"We can later. Do you want clothes?" I asked, exasperated. She nodded.

"Well lets go then." We headed out, her slightly in front and me sneaking glances at everyone around us to check there were no cops or- even worse- people who knew Martha. So far we were safe. I led her inside GAP and searched for the children's section.

"What do you like then?" I said, looking around at the pastel t-shirts and mini sweaters hanging on racks. She marched over to a pink fleece and pointed at it.

"I like that one." I picked it up.

"$20. Oh well."


End file.
